The Conscious Traveler: Bolivia
Okay, so you want to know how to get in and out of Bolivia without paying the price for a visa and also having to get an exit ticket? Well, for one, you can start by not making my mistake. If you are going to go into Bolivia illegally, make sure you DO NOT get an exit stamp from Peru or whatever country you are entering from. Now follow along.
Step 1 - Find a town that lies on the border of the country you are in and Bolivia. (for me, that was Desaguadero). If entering through a border only connected by highway, this entire plan does not work.
Tip - This should go without saying, but be casual while in the proximity of the border. You don’t need the added suspicion.
After countless forged documents got approved by the Bolivian border station, I was still told I had to pay over one hundred and fifty dollars to enter the country because I was American, because Bolivia follows a “reciprocity fee” clause and mirrors the visa requirements that the United States puts on Bolivian travelers. For me, right now, that was not in the cards, and for one week in Bolivia, please, it was never going to happen. So when the border agent told me I could not enter, I told him I’ll see him on my way out. To make this work, you have to make sure you are going through a border town and not a border on a stretch of road that has a “no man’s land.” So while I took my first steps in Bolivia, I started to hitchhike my way up the road. One person picked me up and brought me to their village where I was able to keep walking with what little sunlight I had left in the day. Fortunately, a “mini bus” going to La Paz picked me and my dog up and brought us into the neighboring city. To get into the interior city of La Paz, me and Okami rode the cable car hanging high above the buildings surrounded by the tall peaks of the Andes.
La Paz has the most beautiful public transportation system I have seen in all my travels. Their main mode of transportation is the cable car, suspended above the city, taking you wherever you need to go within the city.
That evening, me and Okami got a hotel and stayed the night where I formatted our trip and escape out of the country, trying to find the best route out of there to not get caught out at some border being asked for a visa I did not have. I was filled with a slight rush and slight anxiety, not to mention, this hotel was holding onto my passport because it was a part of their pet policy. Luckily, the receptionist didn’t go through my documents, or she would have seen I never actually acquired a visa, like the hotel I went to prior who denied me entry.
Step 2 - All bookings should be made at the time of arrival, preferably with a company that is small and run a bit lackadaisically. Advanced bookings and booking with a more reputable business will more often than not require your passport to confirm who you are.
Tip - Try to find accommodation that won’t snoop through your passport.
The next morning, I went out to find a bus that would take me to Uyuni, where I had been planning to do an excursion out on the salt flats. I found a bus out of town in the evening. The kind young man behind the counter didn’t even ask me for any documentation, just to write my name and number down on the dotted line and to pay the hundred BOL. Weeks and months prior, I just stopped mentioning I had a dog. I realized, however this may come across, there really are no rules for these companies, besides the one rule I had been breaking by entering the country illegally. It didn’t matter if it were a bus, hotel, or frontier, the rules are made up as you go and depending on who you talk to. In Panama at the border of Costa Rica, I just made up some random documents that the border patrol woman had asked for, nothing of importance, and I had been there completely legally. In any bus station, one employee will tell you “No dogs allowed.” The next day, someone in the same office will tell you “Dogs are allowed, for a fee.” Come back in an hour, and someone else will tell you, “Dogs are completely allowed as long as you keep them on your person.” That’s why I walk around with a fake document, naming Okami as a service dog.
Tip - If you are traveling longer than a vacation, it is important to have any and all documents that will ease your travel, real or fake, but don’t do anything stupid like having a fake passport.
In Uyuni, there was a festival going on for the upcoming Easter (which has probably passed before this article is published). Some of the best street food you could get your hands on in Latin America. I spent that night searching for day tours the following day in the salt flats, which is the main reason I decided to do this whole fiasco in the first place, and obviously, I couldn’t leave Bolivia out of my world travels when it was sitting right across the border.
The Conscious Traveler says, “You can’t let something as arbitrary as a border stop you from living your life.”
In the morning when I went to the office for the tour, the operator told me that what I had signed up for was a scam and I would have to re-register in the office. Damn, game is game, and I got played. That’s alright though. I called my bank and told them what happened and had the money back in my account immediately. Sometimes you get it, and sometimes you get got.
I circled back into the office, and my tour was ready to go. Me, three Germans, and a guy from the UK. Oh yea, and Louis, who was one chill dude. Went on our ride to Salar de Uyuni, and boy was it worth it. I had never seen anything like it. As Forrest Gump once said,
“I couldn’t tell where Earth stopped and Heaven began.”
It seemed everyone in that car didn’t plan on being in Bolivia all that long. Half of us leaving that night, the other half of us leaving the following morning, but somehow we all ended up in the same place at the same time. For the first time since returning to the Latin American travelers trail in Paracas, I didn’t feel so bad being surrounded by a bunch of tourists. We had a beautiful lunch on the flats followed by different activities in the area and ending with a glass of wine during sunset. This one day alone made it worth being an illegal alien.
But, no Conscious Traveler tale would be complete without a little turmoil. The following morning, I left for a small town to the northeast of Uyuni, one I cannot remember the name of, but on the way to the border of Chile. I arrived towards nightfall. And in an odd case of something out of the twilight zone, I could not for the life of me catch a cab or bus out of town. It was almost like I was invisible, as if I had never existed in Bolivia, and it was all a part of my imagination. I tried for six hours, going into midnight, to catch any sort of ride, but nothing worked. No buses at the station, and every taxi would skip me for the chance to pick someone else up. Now, there is a real, critical reason I think this was the case, but for the sake of this installment of the “Conscious Traveler,” we are going to keep it light and fun.
I had already been walking through the desert for four hours to my destination that was two days by foot when I stumbled through a radioactive plant. The fear of what could happen to me and Okami had me running into the road trying to tackle a freight truck just to make it stop. As more hours went on and the morning approached, I had become exhausted. I had no food nor water since the day before. I’ve gone days without food in certain situations, but the lack of water was starting to get to me. I decided to take a rest under an electric pole where, in my daze, I fell unconscious, praying to God I would receive help. I fell in and out of consciousness to see Okami keeping watch for me for the entire dawn.
The sun rose high from the east, and I knew I had to go in the opposite direction to get to where I needed. All in all, I had been in the desert for about eighteen hours by now. In some sort of rage or anger, I just started to scream and throw whatever I could at oncoming traffic, ready to fight whoever decided to come out of their car and confront me. That did not happen though. A small white Hyundai Kona pulled over and opened its back door to me. I approached hastily and got in. The man stuck his hands out and prayed for me. He drove off and asked me where I was going. I told him the frontier of Chile. He told me he was on his way to Church.
I never actually got his real name, but they called him the professor. He was a college professor in the “city” I had been walking away from, but he was also known for breaking down biblical passages in a way a college professor would break down a history book. I got to witness it firsthand when I attended his church’s service that Sunday. I had realized something sitting there, having all the elder women place their hand on me and pray, in once again another native village. God answered the call.
After service, the Professor and his wife drove me to the next town over where I could catch a bus. Mrs. Professor even packed me and Okami a bag full of snacks. We waited for the bus right next to a military checkpoint, which still being in the country illegally had me on edge a bit. After about twenty minutes of waiting for a bus, a small tornado hit the town, but no one seemed to be fazed. I realized over the next couple of days this region was prone to them. The tornado subsided, and one of the military officers approached me. I kept cool and pretended like all was well. We had a short conversation about me, my dog, and what I was doing in Bolivia. A tractor-trailer came booming down the road. When the driver got to the checkpoint, the officer asked him if he could take me to the border for Chile. The trucker obliged, and my final ride through Bolivia took place. I snuck through the border town, making sure not to raise suspicion, and ended my journey in Chile, heading back to Peru, because my stupid self got an exit stamp for a country I never legally exited. Which brings me to the third and final step.
Step 3 - Similarly to step 1, you have to find a border town upon your exit to not be hassled by immigration. After entry into Chile, be sure to ride back to the Peruvian border to falsely explain to the immigration officers that you are entering from Peru for the very first time that day.
Currently, I wrap this article up sitting outside a cafe in the cold and rainy Patagonia weather, in a town named San Carlos in Chile. Here because I met a couple of kickboxers in the airport in Lima a few months ago and told them I would check out there gym when I got to Chile. A perfect stop in the middle of Santiago and the souther tip of the Patagonia where I will be off to next.
